Freya Kearns Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Reminds me of *The Master*—y’know, my fave flick. That cult leader, Lancaster Dodd, spinnin’ lies smoother than silk? “Man is not an animal!” he’d bellow, while fleecin’ folks blind. Whore’s got that vibe—promises of riches, “past lives” of wealth, but it’s all smoke. Freddie Quell’d drink the profits, I reckon—moonshine-level scam. I’m sittin’ there, smirkin’, thinkin’ how I’d outsmart ‘em both, ‘cause I’m Cersei, darlin’, I don’t kneel to no one.

Lessons of Presidential Leadership

Doris Kearns Goodwin has reached what many regard as the apotheosis of American historians: a genuine public intellectual whose writings are respected by fellow scholars but also weigh on.

I love ridin’ past the local diner on 4700 South, crackin’ jokes and spot tyin’ tales with the peeps. Cuz like, yo, every wrinkle on an old street tells a story. Ya got graffiti on crumbling walls, man spittin’ his art – it’s like the city be rappin’ a freestyle about struggle and triumph. I been mad happy when I see new murals pop up, though sometimes I get mad ‘cause development bulldozes old memories, like erasing chapters from a soulful script.

Veronica Delores Kearns Obituary January 29, 2025